The More Things Change
by MrTicklepaws
Summary: Conrad and Worth. In bed. No one is around. Hannapocalypse. Set a few weeks after You Who I Called Brother (though there are no real spoilers here. :) )


Oh God.

Oh God.

_Oh God, no_.

Eyes were squeezed shut, body shaking euphoria giving way to a mix of sluggish sleepiness and overwhelming umbrage. He was mad at himself, sure, and there was no small measure of embarrassment over the situation, but he was currently bristling over what he knew was percolating in that font of misery known as Worth's head.

He didn't really want to understand what the hell went on in there, but he knew enough that he knew what to expect the moment he finally gave in and opened his eyes.

Maybe he should just keep them shut.

Only, Worth wasn't saying anything, or moving at all, and the lack of derisive comments was making Conrad far more uncomfortable than the dampness on his stomach.

He finally gave in, opening his eyes, finding Worth's face hovering just above his own. It hadn't been there before, no. Worth's face had been on the side, mouth against the sensitive and never truly healed bite marks of Conrad's throat when Conrad had, well, ugh, don't dwell in the past even if it was only a few minutes ago and even if it had actually lasted about as long as this particular moment of them staring at each other and, Worth wasn't saying anything but, oh, there it was. He knew it. A twitch had started to wiggle on the corner of Worth's mouth, like a hook and line, tickling and tugging Worth's mouth up into a slowly spreading smirk.

Conrad did the only thing he really knew to do - avoid, escape, and do so violently. He kicked and elbowed until he had curled his way completely under the blankets that had been beneath them but, well, Conrad had practice in this avoidance technique. He could cocoon himself into nearly any piece of fabric in fifteen seconds or less. At least, that's what Worth said. Hanna seemed to agree, and the zombie had offered to pull out a stopwatch once.

There was a putter above him. Worth was laughing. "Shut up."

"Aww, sweetheart, ain't nothin' ter be ashamed about."

"Shut up! Go away!"

"Go away? But I ain't in nothin' but my unmentionables right now," he was currently poking Conrad with a very specific part of his bare anatomy to, what? Prove the point? Ha. Point. Yes, that was probably it.

"I don't care. Go away."

"Don't even wanna cuddle afterwards?"

Yes? Sort of? But only if Worth could be supportive about this whole thing and not delighting in Conrad's misery. Jesus, had that been his plan all along? See how fast the virgin gets riled up and loses it and then laugh all night long? But, even if that hadn't been it, even if Worth wasn't so clearly, stupidly happy about it, honestly, the gentle support would be even weirder. There was no good solution. Mission abort. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

Worth had at least had the common decency to roll over onto his back (maybe? It was harder to tell now that he didn't have a heat signature and heartbeat for Conrad to follow) to give Conrad a little space. Familiar shuffling noises, and then the distinctive sound of a match springing to life. Jesus, was he smoking? Really? There was no way he was lighting a candle, unless there was going to be a mood setting joke, but it seemed a little late for him to try and play that card. Conrad took a breath in through his nose, then let it out in a disgruntled huff. "Really, Worth?"

"Mmm."

"It doesn't even do anything for you anymore."

"Mmm."

"Don't "mmm" me."

"Aaah?"

"Don't "aah" me, either."

"Well, I ain't much of a screamer, darlin'."

Ugh, no. No, no, no. No we were not revisiting that. He started to curl into the sheets more when he suddenly realized that the scent of cigarettes was incredibly strong; far stronger than it should have been. Inspite of himself and the situation, a low growl gurgled in his chest. "Do not," he bit out, "tell me that you are dropping that ash on top of the sheets."

"Well, th' plan was ter drop 'em on you, but, since yer a li'l wrapped up in 'em, guess that'd be 'bout wot's happenin', yeah."

A moment, a heartbeat in living, human terms, and Conrad flailed his way free enough to sit up and glare at the vampire stretched out beside him. "Do you have any fucking idea how hard it was for me to get the reek of smoke _out _of these sheets? _Do you_? I scrubbed, _multiple_ times in _multiple_ washings with _multiple_ types of detergents and soaps, which were _not_ cheap, thank you oh so fucking _very_ much. I did not do all that effort just to have you mmm and aah at me and undo all of my hard fucking work just because you are entirely and completely devoid of any semblance of proper behavior and that better not be laced with Bloodthorn, so help me, or there will be a hole in the wall that bears a remarkable resemblance in size and shape to your head."

Throughout his rant, Conrad had failed to notice Worth do much past raise his eyebrows, smoke wafting from the end of the cigarette dangling in the doctor's mouth. But now that he was temporarily out of words, he was seeing more. Worth's eyes weren't talon sharp or drooping with boredom, the two flavors that were normally on the menu. Today it was something different. Today there was a wrinkling along their outer edges, somehow softening their gaze. Worth's teeth were peeking out from behind his lips, too, and he was smiling, but, not in a way Conrad thought he had ever seen. Jesus, if he didn't know better, he'd think Worth was..._happy_. Was Worth even capable of being happy? Had he ever seen him happy before? Maybe that one time in the garage, around his birthday, a few weeks before the turning. He may have glimpsed something like this then. It was twisting Conrad up on the inside, making him swallow over the tightness that had somehow found its way into his throat.

The doctor pulled the half-smoked cigarette from its pinched place between his teeth, setting it in the empty tray on the nightstand. Conrad wasn't sure what to do, sitting dumbly, trapped in Worth's unwavering smile. He didn't react when one long fingered hand slid up, cupping the back of Conrad's head, bringing his mouth to press against the doctor's grin. They parted shortly after, with the slightly scratchy side of Worth's thumb brushing across the bare skin just behind Conrad's left ear. "Give it a bit 'n' we'll go again."

"Jesus, really?" Conrad flopped over on his side, facing away from Worth, but not wrapping back up in the blankets just yet.

"Well won't take me long ter get back ter th' startin' line, but I figure ya need a bit of a break."

"If you're going to make fun of me, I'm just going to ignore you."

"Who's makin' fun? 'm jus' sayin'." A weight hung over Conrad's hip. He was familiar enough with it to know it was Worth's arm without needing to look down for confirmation. "Ya had a lotta time ter anticipate 'n' I'm good at wot I do. Didn't think I was quite _that_ good, but-"

"_Ignoring_."

Snickering behind him, and another sensation as Worth's teeth began to nip down the back of his neck. It didn't feel good. He wasn't giving in. Nothing was even _thinking_ of how good it didn't feel or how close Worth's hand was to sliding under the sheets and going back to what had got them in this situation to start with and-

"Oh God we had sex."

He had said that out loud. He knew he had because the nipping kisses had stopped and there was a shake behind him, Worth's forehead pressed against the side of Conrad's neck. The asshole was laughing, and laughing hard enough to, oh, God, really? "Did...did you just snort?"

Oh God, he had. He had. He really had snorted. Worth did it again and Conrad felt a traitorous laugh bubbling out.

This was his life. Losing his virginity in his thirties, after dying, to some crazy man who had tormented him for years, and now they were sort of cuddling and laughing about it? He held his face, laughing at the absurdity of the moment, at how strange and somehow fitting and, really, just how damn well things had managed to turn out. Behind him Worth had managed to reel in his own mirth with a few broken chuckles trailing into a "hah. Hah. Aaah. Christ."

Conrad licked his lips, smiling into the dark, red gaze falling on the overflowing box of books on the floor. "I thought I said not to "aah" me."

"Yeah, yeah, wotever." There was a firm bite at Conrad's shoulder, sending a more-pleasant-than-it-should-be trill up along his spine. The hand was now boldly and clearly moving beneath the sheets with a singular goal in mind. "Break's over."

"It wasn't a-ah!" Was it okay to admit to himself that had felt good? Different from when he took care of himself but in a much nicer way, even if the grip was looser than he was used to. No, probably best to not think about how good that felt, think about other things. England? A brief bit of panicked laughter nearly exploded out again, but was subdued as Worth removed his hand to wrangle himself under the sheets.

"Thought we weren't gonna "aah", Connie. Changin' th' rules on me?" That tongue was going for his neck again. Was he trying to - yes, yes he probably was.

Scratch that, he definitely was.

It was better the second time around. Still awkward at times, but, if Conrad was being honest, it wasn't too far off from what they'd been doing for months. The only real difference now was that skin was against skin, and mouths were in increasingly specific locations and tongues, he now decided, were, in fact, wonderful.

But what he thought might be the best of all was the fact that it felt okay. Choirs of angels weren't singing, but neither were the shrieking winds of regret raging. It was okay. He was okay. Worth was okay. Them, this thing they had. Everything was okay.

Maybe not the weight of Worth, though. That was growing to be mildly annoying, him just sprawled on top of Conrad like a jumbled sack of bones. But when he turned his face towards Worth to tell him just that, there on Worth's face, was that smile again, and Conrad felt the words falling away from him.

"Yer hair," Worth said, clearly full of pride, "'s fucked."

"Well, I suppose that's...to be expected...er..." He swallowed. "_Is_ it to be expected?"

"Heh. No injuries. That's a good thing."

"Injuries?" A look of suspicion clouded Conrad's face.

"This one time I was bangin' this girl inner bedroom-" Ugh, he could really do without hearing about these sorts of things- "An' this photo she had on her wall above her bed came crashin' down. Bam! Right on th' back a my head. Had a helluva lump."

Unsure as to how to react to such a tale, Conrad stared. Eventually he blinked. "Well. Good job glorifying your sexual exploits, I suppose. I'm sure you ran to relay that tale to everyone."

"Tried. No one believed me."

Conrad settled a skeptical look and Worth continued. "Everyone thought Mont had kicked me in th' head."

"Well that...was entirely reasonable of them, actually."

Worth released a dejected sigh across his pillow. "Even Mont didn't believe me."

That made Conrad laugh. "Oh. Oh I...I'm so sorry...I'm-snrk!-so terribly sorry." Biting his lip to stifle his mirth, he patted Worth's shoulder. "That must have been an utter travesty for you."

"Yer damn right it was! Asshole kept sayin' it was jus' the right size ter be from his fist. Bullshit! I know better'n ter give someone my back inna fight!"

Worth seemed legitimately upset and all that did was cause tears to form in Conrad's eyes, tears from the pain of holding in his laughter. "Oh yes. That was awful of him. To forget of your impressive fighting prowess."

A grunt of acknowledgement from the blonde seemed to signal Conrad had said something to actually reduce his building anger to a low simmer.

"Well, er...thank you, I suppose, for sharing such a harrowing tale with me. I would be perfectly happy if you never did that again, though."

"I got worse stories, if that's wotcher after."

"No," he was quick to reply, "I am not, actually."

On top of him, Worth shrugged. "Suit yerself."

"What would suit me best right now is if you would get off of me. Sorry, but you're heavier than you look."

"Naw, ya got one freebie."

He scowled. "What?"

"I ain't talkin' 'bout past exploits." Red eyes glinted as Worth grinned. "There's yer freebie. I'm doin' what I want th' rest a th' night."

"Oh for God's sake, you're serious, aren't you? You simply live to be a pain in the ass, don't you? It's your super power. My pain feeds you and turns you into a greater force of annoyance."

"Make me sound like the Blob or sommat."

"If the Blob was composed of nothing but elbows and knees and other jabby things-" he ignored Worth's snicker "-then, absolutely."

"We'll get that put on th' certificate, then. Mister an' Missus the Blob."

"What? No. First off, we're not married. Second off, I'm not a Missus, and third? Really? You want me to call you Blob all the time?"

"Sure, why not? Works great fer me."

Conrad scoffed. "How so?"

"They'll think my name's Bob an' ya got a speech impediment. Ain't I a saint fer actin' like I don't notice it? Lovin' ya in spite a yer short comin's?"

He didn't have the energy in him to hit Worth in his smug, stupid, smiling face. So, instead, Conrad grabbed Worth by the back of the neck and yanked him forward until their lips pressed together. Easing back, nose tips touching, he stared at the other vampire. "You should learn to shut up sometime, Worth. It would do you good."

"I ain't never done nothin' that did me no good."

"There's so much grammatically wrong with what you just said that it may be some form of ancient Sumerian."

"Naw. Can't be. Can never get the accent right." He slipped back and out of Conrad's grip easily, rolling onto his back to stretch. "Christ I'm thirsty. You want anythin'?"

"Yes, actually."

"C'mon. Let's get dressed an' see wot we kin scrounge up."

That struck him as odd momentarilly. That they were going to just get up and put on clothes. Go out in public and talk to people as if nothing had changed, as if they were the same as they were before.

But, as he buttoned a shirt and watched Worth searching for his left boot, he realized that, yes. That's precisely what they were going to do. Nothing had changed, not him or Worth or how they felt about each other. They were the same, this was the same. Everything was okay.

Conrad allowed himself a smile as he sat on the bed, watching Worth on his hands and knees, scrabbling beneath the mattress frame in a search for his other boot. "I was thinking," he said.

"Yeah? Fuckin'...I kin see it, jus' can' quite reach it..."

"About...well, us, I suppose."

"Uh huh...There...almost got it..."

"I sort of wish I'd started having sex with you a long time ago."

He felt the thud as much as he heard it, reverberating through the metal bedframe. Worth cursed and sat upright, left boot in one hand while his other rubbed the back of his head. Conrad grimaced, Worth sighed, and no one believed him when he tried to tell the tale later that evening.


End file.
